


The Observation

by imma_redshirt



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, but c'mon spock and mccoy are basically an old married couple already
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:05:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imma_redshirt/pseuds/imma_redshirt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alien lord demands McCoy's hand in marriage. McCoy vehemently refuses. The alien lord refuses McCoy's refusal and threatens the Enterprise. Very bad, no good things are about to go down until Jim remembers--of course the good doctor cannot get married, because he is already married.</p><p>To Spock.</p><p>It's the first time Spock and McCoy have heard of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Observation

**Author's Note:**

> So, until I'm satisfied with chapter two of Old Western Tradition, I figured I post up this old thing.
> 
> Can my stories get any more ridiculous? Sources say yes!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

When Kirk joined Spock and McCoy on the turbolift, he realized he’d walked into yet another standoff between his two officers. They stood toe to toe, McCoy narrowing his eyes up at Spock as if waiting for a response that the Science Officer refused to give. Spock stared back with a passive face but for the slightest, barely noticeable to the naked eye, thinning of his lips.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a rusty butter knife.

Kirk had the strong urge to accidentally knock his hip into McCoy’s side and send him stumbling into Spock’s arms. Or, you know, just outright order them to find an empty room and work out their poorly hidden passions before their UST drove the whole crew nuts. Instead, he leaned back to watch as the doors slid shut and the turbolift moved. 

“Well, gentlemen,” he said, smirking at his two friends who had yet to look at him. “Are you going to clue me in on your obviously riveting argument, or am I going to have to fill in the blanks on my own?”

Which meant he was going to guess at an argument caked with sexual tension, which he had done before, to his friends’ horror. Rather than answer, they broke their gazes and turned away from each other, and the thick tension thinned to a less thick, but _still_ pretty thick consistency. 

McCoy rocked on his heels and gestured dismissively in Spock’s direction. “Your walking computer here’s just grating on my nerves for the fifth time this week.”

Kirk looked to Spock, who arched an eyebrow. 

“Indeed, Captain. If Doctor McCoy considers the defense of my stance on a number of issues to ‘grate on his nerves,’ then I will not argue the fact.”

McCoy scowled at the wall.

The turbolift came to a stop. As Kirk exited, his friends absently taking their self appointed places to either side of him, he mentally filed the mystery argument away into the "Very Likely Sexually Charged Debates" folder. The second imaginary folder Kirk dedicated to his friends, titled "Most Definitely Sexually Charged Debates--I Mean Seriously Bordering On Actual Angry Intimate Encounters," was thicker than the first and had grown to considerable girth over their years serving together. Ever since that very first argument that Kirk had witnessed on their first away mission together, where a slightly younger doctor and science officer had squared off in a dry desert, Kirk standing to the side and watching in growing fascination. Spock’s uniform had been ripped to shreds, the tears in both Science blues and dark undershirt presenting an admirable expanse of green skin. McCoy’s blue tunic had been lost completely, lost in their hasty escape from a canabalistic tribe, black undershirt damp with sweat and clinging to his chest. They had stood so close, McCoy arguing so heatedly and gesturing so wildly, while Spock had stood so straight with his hands gripped behind his back as to keep himself from laying them upon the doctor. Unfortunately, before the argument could lead to anything beyond heated glares, a hidden tribe member had appeared atop a high cliff, bola-like weapon swinging above his head, and had thrown a sizeable chunk of rock right at Kirk’s head. Somehow, Kirk’s friends must have figured out a way to work together, because Kirk woke up hours later on a biobed upon the Enterprise, Spock and McCoy sharing a surprisingly amiable conversation at his bedside.

Since then, they had developed an odd friendship that differed in a number of ways from the ones they shared with Kirk, and had come to honestly care for one another. Their relationship had come to include friendly jabs and each other and actual pleasant conversations, even when Kirk was absent from their side. They were legendary amongst the Federation in their partnership on science and medical projects and discoveries. It was a fun thing to watch grow, especially for the man who spent more time in their presence than anyone else.

It had also grown a belief among the majority of the Enterprise crew that their CMO and First Officer definitely had the hots for each other. And for those who spent enough time in their general vicinity, it was hard not to notice the blatant sexual tension pulsing from their combined presence like an emergency beacon on red alert.

By the time the trio reached the transporter room, the tension left over from their most recent argument had died down, but just enough was left over for Scotty and Kyle to catch on and to share an amused look by the control panel.

While their partnership on projects had become legendary throughout the Federation, their arguments had shared the same widespread fame. On the Enterprise alone, it was a widely held belief that arguments and debates were a favorite pass time between the two, seeing as the two senior officers shared one at least twice a day, and sometimes over meals and dessert. It was well known that if their daily quota was not met, the Vulcan and southern gentleman would actively seek each other out to meet that goal if they wanted to rest easy by the end of the day.

“Are we ready, Scotty?” Kirk asked, sharing his own smile with the Chief Engineer as Spock and Bones moved ahead to the transporter.

“Aye, sir.”

“Alright. You have the con while we’re down there, but I don’t think this’ll take too long.”

“Let’s hope not,” Bones mumbled.

“Chin up, Bones,” Kirk said, taking his place on the pad. “Just one more meeting with the planet’s lords, and we’re done. You won’t have to see this place again.”

Bones snorted, but looked hopeful. None of the visiting Enterprise crew had enjoyed their current destination, but of all of them, he had the most reason to balk at returning to the planet below.

“I promise we’ll get through with this as soon as possible,” Kirk continued, patting McCoy on the shoulder. Though he, too, wished the meeting would end quickly, the promise was mostly for his friend’s benefit.

McCoy nodded, and a few words later, they disappeared into the shimmer of the transporter beam.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For six days, the away teams had been greeted by the three ruling lords of the small green planet, and today was no different. Kirk, Spock, and McCoy materialized in the same spot as always, on a round platform with chiseled tile surrounded by pillars covered with climbing vines. Ahead of them, two men and a woman stood on short marble pedestals, their respective servants and advisers waiting in semi circles around them. The three Lords were of impressive height, inches taller than even Spock, their alabaster skin lined with violet tattoos that showed their family lines and rights to their titles. They looked down their noses at their guests, possibly because they were too tall to meet their eyes, but most likely because they really didn’t care for them. 

Kirk shared that sentiment. He would not be dealing with their government at all if they were not in possession of huge, _huge_ mines of dilithium crystals. Even Spock had displayed emotion at the size of their mines, lifting both eyebrows in Vulcan-y surprise. 

“Lord Nathsa, Lord Daevner, Lord Eavin,” Kirk said, and bowed his head. Spock and McCoy followed suit. “I, Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the Enterprise, along with my highest officers Spock and Doctor McCoy, greet you with the highest respect.”

Kirk deepened his bow. He did not expect the Lords to respond in kind, because they never responded in kind, and straightened from his bow once he heard each Lord say “Very well” in return.

“We come to you for the last time,” he continued, reciting the words that Uhura had handed him the night before. “With thanks for your generosity and wisdom, and for the great gifts from your vast dilithium mines.”

Before he even finished, each Lord stepped down from their pedestals, their flowing robes fanning out behind them as they moved forward. Behind them, the sun had begun to set, and their long limbed bodies shimmered with what must have been buckets of glitter thrown onto their robes before the meeting. There was no denying that they were attractive people--their visages were definitely filed away under Kirk’s imaginary Really Gorgeous People I’ve Met In Space, I Mean _Damn_ folder--and they took every opportunity to advertise the fact. Lord Nathsa, tallest of the three, wore flowy, violet robes that hugged and clung and draped in all the right places. Lord Eavin, his long hair slicked back into a tight pony tail, had donned a rosy pink vest beneath his pastel green robes, with clear crystals spiraling up his sleeves. And Lord Daevner, a dark haired, green eyed man with a thick, muscled body, had donned dark blue robes for the occasion, emerald green stones dotting his cuffs, and a single silver ring on his left hand. 

They were definitely the most stylish people Kirk had met in a good while.

Between the two men, Lord Nathsa moved ahead and held one slender hand out towards Kirk.

“Use our gifts well, Captain,” she said, palm held inches from Kirk’s face in farewell. “We gift them to your star traveling people in good faith that you will use them only for exploration, and not in violence.”

Of the three, Kirk liked Nathsa the best, and understood why she lead the other two. Though, she did have a tendency to passive aggressively insult people after seemingly kind words.

“Humans may be the dullest of creatures in the galaxy, but I am certain even you can understand our demands.”

Like now, for instance.

“We will do our best,” he said, smiling with good old Kirk charm. Nathsa didn’t seem affected by it. Kirk continued, “Farewell then, and thank you again for your generosity, my Lords.”

Done. They had planned the trip to be short and to the point, and Kirk knew they had to leave before the Lords threw a wrench into their plans, at least before McCoy could be bothered again. Bowing his head, he stepped back and reached for his communicator.

“A moment, Kirk.”

Kirk silently cursed.

Lord Daevner stepped forward, and Kirk felt more than saw McCoy unconsciously step back. For the past seven days, the second Lord of the planet had focused a worrying amount of attention upon Kirk’s friend. They had all, at first, been bemused by the Lord’s tendency to walk beside the doctor and watch him silently as he conducted medical scans on various natives. Kirk had thought the man was curious, observing an alien medical professional with understandable scrutiny as McCoy examined his people. On the second day, Daevner invited McCoy to tour the medical facilities in his properties, and on the third, he invited the doctor to dinner. McCoy had initially accepted the offers with a bit of smugness, flattered by the Lord’s apparent fascination with him. But after the second and then third dinners with Daevner, the flattery had dissolved into annoyance.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was courting me,” McCoy said after the third dinner. He had sat with his arms crossed in Kirk’s room, while Kirk and Spock played a game of chess. Spock had arched an eyebrow at him. “Now, I know I’m damn fine doctor, and I don’t mind talking shop with someone who’s genuinely interested, but he’s starting to ask questions that are getting way too personal. And he’s giving me gifts, Jim. _Gifts._ He gave me a bouquet just today!”

“We can ask M’Benga or Sanchez to fill in for you,” Kirk had offered, ready to take McCoy off the mission if he was in any way uncomfortable.

But McCoy had heaved a sigh and shook his head, biting his lip. “Naw. I don’t want them to go through that. I’ll be fine, it’s just damn annoying.” He’d paused and snorted. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a handsome man, but his attitude’s too much on the snobby side.”

Spock had given him a considering look, and after that, the Science officer had not strayed far from the doctor’s side. The Vulcan’s presence had been successful in stopping the gifts and the “dates,” but it had not stopped the Lord from following McCoy around and offering usually one-sided conversations boasting about his fortunes, his properties, his servants, his athleticism, his clothing, his succulent foods, and the occasional compliment of McCoy’s abilities as a doctor and sometimes the color of his eyes, all while blatantly ignoring McCoy’s Vulcan shadow. 

McCoy had insisted to Kirk that if he received any comments on his body, he was going to punch a certain Lord in the face. He didn’t need that kind of attention right now, dammit.

Now, standing behind Kirk, McCoy watched hesitantly as the same Lord stopped nearby. Kirk and Spock shifted in place, both ready to step in at the first signs of McCoy’s distress. Spock’s hands were gripped behind his back, dark eyes trained on the Lord’s face.

“You say this will be the last time you meet with us,” Daevner said to Kirk, ignoring both Spock and McCoy. “And for this I am glad. I tire of your presence.” 

Kirk stopped himself from replying with _Yeah, well, I’m really tired of your face too,_ and nodded good naturedly. “Understandable.” 

“But Captain,” the Lord added, “In the days since you have been with us, I have found myself wanting of something you own.”

“Something I own?” Kirk repeated, brow furrowed. McCoy was scowling now, watching the Lord with a look that Kirk knew meant an impending rant. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Lord Daevner.” 

“I am a wealthy man, Kirk,” Daevner said. “The second wealthiest Lord of Dooshteria, heir to the Chair of the Second Coming, and I have in my possession many treasures, and many concubines.”

Beside him, Lord Nathsa watched expectantly, and Lord Eavin was ordering a servant to pick imaginary dust from his sleeves, completely uninterested in the exchange happening before him.

“Then what can I possibly have that you would want,” Kirk asked, but he felt that he already knew what the Lord was going to ask of him, and he was ready to shoot the man’s demand down.

The lord sniffed haughtily. “I would have your servant doctor, Leonard McCoy.”

“ _What?_ ” McCoy had reeled back in shock, recovered quickly, and immediately snapped, “I’m a doctor, dammit, not a damn possession, and he sure as hell doesn’t own me!”

“Doctor McCoy is correct,” Spock added firmly, coming to stand between the doctor and the glowering lord. “He is a human being, a member of the Federation of Planets, and a sentient being. You cannot--”

“We will be wed on the morrow,” Daevner continued over Spock’s words and McCoy’s indignant sputtering. “And he will be treasured, I assure you. I treat all my wives well.”

“ _Wives!?_ ”

“As you can see,” Kirk said, his calm facade close to the breaking point. “He’s turned down your… offer.”

“Damn right I turned it down,” McCoy growled. Lord Daevner finally glanced at him. “I refuse!”

“I have courted him since he first appeared before me,” Daevner said, turning from McCoy and looking down his nose at Kirk. “I have a right to his hand in marriage. According to the laws of our planet, Kirk, he already belongs to me.”

“Like hell I do! You listen here you goddamn--”

“Lord Daevner is correct,” Lord Nathsa said, calm voice overpowering McCoy’s angry words. “The unclaimed human rightfully belongs to the Lord who gifted him with the Flowers of Anaithai, and fed him precious sweets from his own collection. You told us that you would follow our laws and honor our ways, did you not?”

“Not when your laws and ways endanger my people,” Kirk said. He flipped open his communicator and, meeting Daevner’s eyes with a firm glare of his own, ordered, “Enterprise, this is Captain Kirk. Beam up the landing party, immediately.” He waited a beat, and when no answer came he spoke again, “Enterprise!”

“You will find that we have disabled your devices,” Lord Nathsa said, elegantly folding her hands in front of her. Behind her, her servants each held up glowing blue, round devices that flashed when he tried again to use his communicator. He had seen them before today, but the servants had only ever used them to activate the vehicles and machinery around the planet. “You have seen our resources, and the fuel we have to keep them running. Now know that we may use those same sources to disable your ship completely, until you follow our laws.”

“I will either keep your man here,” Daevner added, slipping the silver ring from his finger. “Or _all_ of your people. No man may deny a Lord his demands under our laws.”

For the first time since beaming down to this planet, Kirk found himself speechless. 

“Now,” Daevner said, turning to a red faced McCoy, one hand holding up the glinting, silver ring. “Your hand, McCoy, so that all may know of our engagement.”

McCoy gaped, eyes frantic as they focused first on the ring, then on Kirk, and finally Spock. He licked his lips and turned to Daevner. “Well, I-- if you promise to let them go--”

“You cannot,” Spock said, stepping again between McCoy and the advancing lord. 

“Spock, if I don’t--”

“Move aside, green skinned fiend,” Daevner said, and shoved Spock out of his way.

A lot of things happened all at once. Spock whirled around, one arm coming up to throw Daevner’s hand off his shoulder, while McCoy snapped “Get your hands off of him!” Then five men, dressed in the colors of Daevner’s robes, moved in from behind to seize McCoy and Spock and Kirk, while Daevner grabbed for McCoy’s hand to force the ring onto his finger, and Lord Nathsa watched placidly while Eavin adjusted his ponytail and even with all that happening, Kirk’s voice rose above it all.

“He’s already married!”

“You lie,” Daevner hissed, whirling on Kirk. The ring was still in his hand, McCoy’s fingers having curled into a fist against his intrusion. His servants kept their hold on the doctor and Vulcan, who both seemed frighteningly small in their midst. 

“I don’t lie,” Kirk lied. He matched Daevner’s scowl with one of his own. “Doctor McCoy is a married man, Daevner. Do your laws permit adultery?”

“They do not,” Nathsa said, eyeing Daevner critically. 

“He has told me of his ‘divorce’!” Daevner snapped. “He is an unclaimed man. There is no ring on his finger, and there will be no other than mine!”

He turned and grabbed McCoy’s wrist, squeezing until the doctor’s hand was forced to open under the pain. McCoy grimaced and cursed, and Spock renewed his struggles against Daevner’s servants.

“He is a claimed man!” Kirk yelled, pulling against the hands holding him back. “He’s married! To Mr. Spock!”

“To _who_?” McCoy sputtered.

“Bones, don't tell me you've forgotten about your husband, Mr. Spock, already!” Kirk said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Spock's stiff posture, and the shift of expression that, for a Vulcan, spoke of incredulity. He looked at Nathsa apologetically. “They, ah, have been married for only a few days, you see, basically newlyweds, still getting used to it all--”

“I see no ring on either of their fingers,” Daevner said, eyes narrowing.

“We on the Enterprise do not use rings to announce joinings,” Kirk said. “But notice their shirts? Same color. Blue. That’s our equivalent of rings.”

“There are others who wear blue!” Daevener snapped. 

“Because they serve under Mr. Spock and Doctor McCoy!”

“The blue of his eyes, Daevner,” Nathsa said, stepping forward. She looked from McCoy to Spock with a vague smile. “Did you choose the color for his eyes? How romantic, for one not of our world.”

“Isn’t it?” Kirk said. “I thought so too, when they came to me with the news.”

“Quite. I am impressed.”

This whole time, neither Spock nor McCoy had spoken, only looking from one speaker to the other, both at a loss. McCoy’s expression was gradually moving from bafflement to incredulity. Spock shared the Vulcan equivalent of resignation. 

“Romantic,” Daevner spat,subconsciously tugging McCoy’s hand as if to pull him to his side. “For a lie! Lord Nathsa, I demand observation of this alleged joining of hands!”

“Very well,” Nathsa said, bowing her head. 

Kirk frowned. “Observation?”

“For seven days, we will observe the human and the green being,” Nathsa explained. She waved her hand, and Daevner’s servants released the three Starfleet officers. Daevner kept his hold on McCoy’s hand. “A reasonable demand, as many have lied to keep things from us, Captain, and enacting an observance will either prove your story, or disprove it.” She clapped her hands once, the loud snap starling the humans. “Hear this, all! For seven days to come, the ship Enterprise will be held in our beam above our world, and Human McCoy and Vulcan Spock will remain on our lands, so that we may Observe their union! Should any Observe evidence that they lie, they must bring the evidence before myself and the Lord Eavin!” She looked at Kirk, eyes grave. “If you have lied to us, Captain, and it is a proven lie, your doctor will be taken and given to Lord Daevner to do with as he will, and your First Officer will be killed. You, Kirk, will be beaten horrendously.”

“I see,” Kirk said, and cleared his throat. “If we refuse this Observation?”

Nathsa shrugged one slender shoulder. “Then we still take McCoy and kill your Vulcan and beat you anyway. There is nothing to stop us. Your ship is in our hold, you are in our hold, your _fates_ are in our hold. You did, after all, agree to honor our laws.”

“I did,” Kirk agreed. He watched McCoy jerk his hand from Daevner’s grasp, glaring at the Lord who leered down at him. Noticing the look on Daevner's face, Spock went to stand by McCoy’s side. 

Together, Spock and McCoy looked at Kirk, arguments ready on their lips.

"Jim," McCoy said, rubbing his wrist, just as Spock said "Captain--"

"We accept," Kirk said, ignoring the looks that promised long complaints once they were alone. It was not an ideal situation, but it was the best one they had at the moment. "As long as I'm by their side each day. I'm their Captain," he added when Nathsa frowned.

She nodded. "I understand. Very well, Captain Kirk. You will be allowed to remain on our planet, only to Observe along with us. Should you tamper with evidence, you will be given an additional beating."

"Thank you for getting to the point," Kirk said, nodding at the lord's blunt words.

Nathsa clapped again, then raised her hands in the air above Spock and McCoy's heads. "Let the Observation commence! For seven days, McCoy and Spock, we will watch and study you. If your union is true, then you will have seven days of joy and pleasure. If it is a lie, you will suffer at our hands." Another clap. "My servants, come forth so that we may prepare."

She stepped away, signaling Kirk to remain where he was. Between the Captain and his officers, Daeven rubbed his thumb along the edge of his ring, green eyes trained on McCoy. He leaned down and forward, and McCoy stood his ground. "I look forward to the time when I kill your lying demon and take you for my own, doctor. You will be a tantalizing view among my treasures."

As the lord turned away with a flourish, Spock stiffened, Bones puffed up with indignant rage, and Kirk bit back a sigh.

It was going to be a _long_ week.

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to post this before Thanksgiving day--I have a lot of chores to do before the family arrives--so I may have edited this in a hurry. I don't have a beta reader, so if there are any mistakes, or if something doesn't make sense, or if the pace seems off, please let me know!


End file.
